


For a moment, we were able to be still

by DreamingOfABetterYou



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arthur is a lawyer, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Eames is a kindergarten teacher, Established Relationship, Everything is fluff and nothing hurts, Fluff, M/M, This is just mush and them being sweet with each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24186583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingOfABetterYou/pseuds/DreamingOfABetterYou
Summary: It's the little things.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 67





	For a moment, we were able to be still

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a hazy stream of consciousness because my one brain cell went "yo. Eames in a cardigan and glasses and with children" and my other brain cell agreed.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> Love, Liz
> 
> PS: The title is from Florence and the Machine's "No Choir", which is a song about being happily in love. Seemed fitting.

Arthur had only just finished the washing-up when he heard the key in the door, followed by what sounded like a twenty-pound dumbbell being sat down, and a low groan after that.

“Leave it to you to carry a whole library with you” he said flatly, leaning against the doorjamb with a playfully quirked eyebrow. The other man startled at the sound of his voice as he toed off his shoes.

“Darling!” Eames exclaimed happily, tripping over his well-worn Oxfords on his way to Arthur. “You’re home early.”

Arthur embraced him easily, kissing him as he rubbed a firm hand over the broad line of Eames’ shoulders. “We didn’t have to revise the contract as much as I feared. They were positively _kind_ to us.” The blond man chuckled against Arthur’s neck at that; the hostile take-over that Arthur was negotiating with the law firm he worked at had been the bane of his existence for months.

“Well, I am very happy to see more of you in the future” he teased, pecking him on the lips and stroking his face gently.

“I’m sorry I had to leave so early, this morning” Arthur muttered guiltily. “Couldn’t even properly say happy anniversary.”

Eames tutted. “None of that. You’re here now. And it’s not like we haven’t had anniversaries before, right darling?” His smile was genuine and bright as he ran a roughened thumb over Arthur’s cheek.

The dark-haired man squinted suspiciously at the rougher-than-normal feeling. “Tell me that paint on your hand is dry. Just…please.”

The other man chuckled, raising his hands in mock-defence. His hands, while covered in multi-coloured splotches, were completely dry. “Didn’t have time to wash the paints off if I wanted to catch my bus, did I?” He shrugged, pushing the overly long sleeves of his cardigan up. Arthur tracked the movement carefully with his eyes, the way Eames’ tattooed forearms were slowly revealed. He knew Eames was watching him, he knew Eames was putting on a bit of a show folding back the cuff to wonkily make the whole thing stay in place, and he didn’t care, thank you very much.

“We could get a car, you know” he muttered, pulling Eames close to pull the sleeves down again and fold them up properly, with quick, efficient movements. “Then you wouldn’t constantly have knots in your shoulders, too.”

Eames grinned as he watched Arthur work; he loved his big, slender hands, all long fingers and the play of sinew below skin. “But then I wouldn’t have any excuse to demand massages from you, darling. Wouldn’t want that. And I can read on the bus; decide on what book the little mongrels will get that day.”

Arthur shook his head fondly. “I still can’t believe that you lug around tons of books for them each day. They can’t even read, you know; they’re relying on you, as much as I hate to say that.”

“Mm, afraid it’ll get to my head?” Eames chuckled. “I just…I always had books around, as a child, and I treasured them. I feel like if you trust them with something, something breakable and delicate, they know that you put faith in them, and that you think they’re going to be good about it. That’s got to be good for their development, doesn’t it?” He shrugged self-consciously, rubbing the back of his neck even as he grinned toothily at Arthur. “Look at me, being all pedagogical and shit.”

Arthur kissed him; he couldn’t not. “I think you’re amazing, and smart, and too good for the lot of them” he said against Eames’ smiling mouth.

 _I want to see you with our children, one day; I think that’ll be the best thing I could ever hope for_ , he didn’t say. Over the years, the words had gotten closer to the surface, and sometimes Arthur thought Eames could see it in his eyes, when they lay on the sofa together and Eames talked about the children in his daycare group, about how quickly they grew, and how even at three years old, they were their own people with insanely intricate minds.

Eames _loved_ them, so much, loved his job and everything that came with it, even the questionable stains at the end of the day, the tantrums and the ever-present fight about naps. There was the sweetest ache in Arthur, thinking of having all this _care_ targeted at their child, one day. _Maybe next year. Next year, I’ll ask him_.

Eames stifled a yawn, mostly unsuccessfully, and grinned self-consciously when Arthur chuckled.

“Long day without a nap?” Arthur teased playfully, already tugging him over to their overstuffed sofa with more throw pillows than any sane household should own. Eames went down easily even while taking up a token protest.

“I would be fine, but _someone_ got out of bed too fucking early” he stabbed his fingertips at Arthur’s ribs as the man collapsed onto the grey fabric as well, watching him squirm away with a chuckle, masked by a groan.

“I _am_ sorry” Arthur repeated, pulling Eames into his arms until the bigger man could rest his head on Arthur’s chest, one strong arm curling over the other man’s ribcage. Thoughtlessly, Arthur ran gentle fingertips over Eames’ forearm as the other man visibly fought against the call of sleep.

“You were even gone too quickly to have anniversary sex” Eames complained half-heartedly, his words a bit muffled by the way his face was mushed against Arthur’s white button-down.

“And I am sorry for that as well” Arthur said dutifully, pressing a kiss into Eames’ hair.

“I’ll get to it” the other man promised even with his eyes kept slipping shut. Thinking of it, Arthur thought, a nap might be just what was needed. “We’ll have such great anniversary sex, just you wait” he slurred against the lawyer’s shoulder as he shifted into a more comfortable position. Arthur, who had been on the receiving end of many complaints about his sharp elbows and the edges of his shoulders over the years, twisted in a way that he knew Eames would find suitable, even if his back would regret it should he stay like that for more than an hour.

“I made some spinach lasagna earlier” he muttered, apropos of nothing, “we can have that for dinner.”

Eames groaned against his neck. “Fuck, darling. Marry me.”

Arthur chuckled even as his breath caught a bit at the easy intimacy. “I’m afraid you’re a bit late for that.” He smiled softly as he felt Eames pawing around for his left hand a bit gracelessly, lifting it to his plush mouth and pressing a kiss on Arthur’s wedding band. “Best idea I had in ages” the broader man mumbled against Arthur’s skin, “and I have many good ideas.”

Arthur suppressed a snort; he wouldn’t bring up the incident with the power drill and the green glitter paint, the day had been too lovely so far. “So you do.”

„Darling?“ Eames asked drowsily, snuggling deeper against Arthur when the lawyer curved his left arm around his husband too.

“Mhm” Arthur replied, stifling a yawn in the other man’s hair and petting long, slow lines up and down his back.

“I think I’m too tired to fuck you today. Can I do it tomorrow?”

Arthur barked out an incredulous laugh, chuckling when Eames grumbled at him.

“Anytime you want, babe.”

“Mmgood. Kiss me some more, though?” He tipped his head back against the sofa, pouting up at Arthur with a bit of a squint. His horn-rimmed glasses were hopelessly skewed on his face. Arthur smiled fondly down at him as he carefully pulled Eames’ glasses off and set them on the coffee table before curling even tighter around Eames, combing gentle fingers through his blondish hair. The other man hummed in content, a lazy smile pulling at his plump mouth. Arthur couldn’t help but kiss the smile off his face, just a bit, just to feel Eames’ stubble against his own smooth cheeks, their noses nudging against each other in familiarity.

“I love you” Arthur mumbled when they drew back, still in awe at being allowed this perfect slice of domesticity and comfort, even after four years of marriage and some more years of being together before that. A part of him didn’t want to get used to it; he wanted to keep this gentle spark of feeling loved, even if it was about something stupid and mundane like making Eames’ favourite meal.

When he flicked his eyes up to meet Eames’, the other man was already looking at him, his blue-gray eyes a bit hazy with exhaustion but still full of warmth and tenderness.

“And I love you, darling.”

 _Maybe I won’t wait till next year_ , Arthur thought suddenly. _Maybe I’ll ask him tomorrow._

Tomorrow. Maybe.

But for now, he was content to lie here, peacefully, and have a bit of a nap.


End file.
